All in the Golden Afternoon
by GundamDelta6
Summary: House gets a new case…and it's personal. HIATUS!
1. Prologue

Title: All in the Golden Afternoon…

Category: House, M.D.

Genre: Mystery/Suspense

Pairing: Past House/Stacy, Implied House/Cuddy

Set: Season 5

Rating: PG-13

Summary: House gets a new case…and it's personal.

Author Notes: My first "case" fic.

Author Notes 2: In regards to the reviews for part 3 of my episode tag series, 'next week' refers to the next week that there is an episode. I am fully aware of the shift in scheduling, and 'next week' is synonymous with 'next time'. So if you could all stop telling me that there is no episode on March 23, it would be appreciated, since I know that already. Anyways...on with the new fic.

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"Mommy," a soft voice called in the dark. There was no answer. "Mommy." Louder, but still no answer. "Mommy!" Finally, there were footsteps down the hall. The door opened and the little girl sat up in bed. "Mommy, can I have some water?" There was a sigh, and she knew what that meant. Her mommy was annoyed.

"Honey, it's nine o'clock. You should have been asleep half an hour ago." The door opened wider and the mother walked into the room, moving closer to the bed. She sat down right next to her daughter and reached out a hand to smooth her hair. "I'll get you a glass of water if you promise to go to sleep."

"I promise, mommy." The girl nodded her head once, and her mother stood up and left, leaving the door open. She lay back in her bed, snuggling under the blankets. Her head fell back against the pillows, and she closed her eyes tightly. The footsteps coming back to her room were loud and they didn't sound like her mommy's. But it was her mother who stepped back through the open door, holding her glass of water.

"Here. Drink up and get some sleep," her mother said, and her voice was barely able to be heard. Her mother sat back down next to her, holding the water out. She didn't move. "Sweetheart? What's wrong?"

"It's too far away. I can't reach," she whispered, her own voice sounding too loud. Her mother's eyes narrowed in confusion, and she set the glass on the small table next to her daughter's bed. "Mommy…my head hurts."

"How bad does it hurt?" Her mother reached out to put a hand on her forehead. "You don't have a fever…"

"It hurts a lot. Mommy, I'm scared."

"Shh. Don't be afraid, honey…I'm gonna call a doctor, okay?" She stroked her daughter's face before taking the water glass back up and holding it until the little girl reached out and took it. "I'll be right back, okay, baby?" The girl nodded as she sipped at the water. Her mother stood and left, her footsteps soft against the carpet.

She had just picked up the phone to dial the first hospital number that came to her when there was a crash from her daughter's room. She took the phone with her back down the hall and stopped as her little girl walked out of the room looking sad and guilty.

"Mommy…I'm sorry…"

"About what, honey?" she asked, running over to her daughter and kneeling next to her. "What happened?"

"I broke the glass. It was an accident, mommy! I put it on the table, but the table moved and the glass fell…"

"Honey, shh, shh….tables can't move."

"Mine did." Her brown eyes were brimming with tears. "I'm sorry." She was surprised when her mother pulled her into a hug.

"It's not your fault. I'm gonna call the doctor, and we'll see what we can do about your head hurting." She pulled away from her daughter, punching in the numbers on the phone. It wasn't long before reception picked up on the other end. "Yes. I need a doctor to take a look at my daughter. It's very important…I think something may be wrong with her." The voice on the other end spoke and the woman let out a sigh of relief. "Yes. I'll bring her in in the morning." She hung up and looked at her daughter.

"Let's get you back into bed. You're gonna need your rest to see the doctor tomorrow." Standing she picked up her little girl and carried her back to her room. After tucking her in, she set to work cleaning up the broken glass, noticing immediately that the table was right where it had always been.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

House limped through the doors of the clinic, reluctant as usual to even be there in the first place. He had raised his hand to reach for one of the red files when a blue one was stuck in front of his face. Moving his hand, he took it and turned suspicious eyes to his boss.

"Why, Cuddy. You just can't make up your mind, can you? First you want me here, and when I actually show up, you decide to kick me out." Nevertheless, he opened the file and scanned the contents. "Three year old complaining of headaches? This is the best you've got?"

"Migraines, House. Three year olds don't spontaneously get migraines," Cuddy replied, needing to find some way to make him take the case.

"Says she also imagined her bedside table moving…well, three year olds _do_ tend to have overactive imaginations. They are three, after all." House kept his eyes on the file, wondering why Cuddy was so anxious to toss this case off on his department.

"Her mother thinks it's more than that." One eyebrow raised as she regarded her employee. "But then…her mother has always tended to read into things more than she needs to," she added cryptically. House's blue eyes shot up to meet her brown ones before glancing back to the name at the top of the file.

"So. This is your master plan? Honestly, Cuddy, I thought you had better ways of making me take on these stupid cases. It's simple headaches that seem like migraines because the kid is three and likely doesn't know the difference between the two, and her mother is too overprotective to let it go. It's a simple overactive imagination. Get the kid some coloring books and crayons or something. You don't need me to solve this."

"But her mother does. She requested you personally when she brought the kid in this morning." House rolled his eyes, but closed the file and limped back out into the main lobby of the hospital. "The girl's on the third floor."

"Pediatrics is on the second floor. Why give this kid a room on the third floor?"

"Mother's request. Third floor is closer than the second to the fourth."

"And closer to my office, since my office is on the fourth floor. Geeze, Cuddy, if you wanted me to stop those late night visits to your place, all you had to do was ask…" He quirked an eyebrow at her, a small smile on his lips, as he took the copies of the file from her and hobbled back towards the elevators. Once the silver metal of the elevator doors had locked him in, his face fell back into its distinctive scowl. It was too early in the morning to deal with this. It was too soon after everything that had happened to deal with this.

The doors opened onto the fourth floor and House made his way to his office, passing quickly through it to enter his conference room. Cuddy hadn't said anything about her being in his office when she'd informed him of the child's location. He supposed that she wanted him to assume that she was with the kid. Throw him off guard.

"Um…shouldn't you find out why that lady is in your office?" Kutner asked, glancing between House and the woman leaning against the desk in his office.

"Nope. I know why she's here." He answered, ignoring the looks his team was giving him. "New case," he directed, throwing the case files on the table. Everyone reached for a copy, and House moved toward the whiteboard. The door to his conference room opened, and he paused in the act of pulling the cap off of one of the markers. After a very brief moment, he dropped the cap and started writing. "Differential for headaches and overactive imagination…" he started, writing down exactly what he was saying.

"Why do we even have this case?" Taub asked, flipping through the file. "It seems like just a simple clinic case."

"We have it because _she_," here, he gestured to the woman now standing in the doorway between his office and conference room, "wanted Cuddy to get me to personally handle this case. After all, I did so well last time I treated one of her family members."

"Could be a reaction to something," Thirteen remarked, ignoring the intruder and focusing on the differential. The reason given for taking the case was good enough for her, and she figured it wouldn't do any good to argue. "Certain foods can cause headaches."

"She doesn't eat anything for at least half an hour before she goes to bed," the woman said. House glared at her.

"No offense, but if you want to help with the differential, get a medical license. Otherwise, go sit by your kid's bedside." The team stared in shock.

"House," Taub started, but quickly shut up when the diagnostician turned a look on him.

"You guys act like you've never seen me be mean and degrading to a patient's family before," he rolled his eyes and turned back to the whiteboard.

"You can't do this without my help, Greg," she said, causing the team to turn their eyes from him to her. Except Foreman. Foreman just sat there, reading over his copy of the patient file.

"If I need your help, I'll send one of my team down to ask you or your daughter some questions. You don't belong here." The woman was cut off from replying when Foreman cleared his throat.

"It says here that the kid has complained of some sounds being louder or softer than usual. Also, kid says that some things seem farther away than others." House added those to the list.

"Auditory and visual distortions…either of those happen since she was admitted?"

"I'll go ask," Thirteen volunteered, standing up and closing her copy of the file. House's voice stopped her just as she was brushing past the woman to leave.

"Ask about the headaches, too." He glanced up quickly to see Thirteen nod once before leaving.

"What do you want us to do?" Kutner asked.

"Go with Thirteen. Once she's done asking questions, keep the kid occupied. Find out how active her imagination is. Play with cards, color outside the lines, do something," he waved them away and they filed out, leaving House alone with the intruder. Once the door of his office closed behind Taub, House glared at the woman again, leaning on his cane.

"I want to help, Greg. This is my daughter…"

"Who you requested that I treat. You belong by her bedside. Not helping out with the differential. Go to your kid, Stacy. She needs you more than we do." Stacy looked like she wanted to say something, but turned and left, following House's team back down to the third floor.


	3. Chapter 2

Sorry it took so long to update...I had a bit of a busy week while I was on break. I spent a lot of time reading The Gun Seller by Hugh Laurie, and then I saw "Monsters vs Aliens" which has Hugh Laurie in it....and I spent quite a bit of time reading spoilers for tonight's House episode. Which the tag to will be posted tonight about an hour or two after the episode airs, depending on how many pages I can write. I've got a pretty good idea of what the smut-factor will be for this one, so...keep an eye on my updates tonight for Part 4 of "Stronger than Vicodin"......and now on with the story...  


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Chapter 2

The girl in the hospital bed looked up as the door opened. Her big brown eyes watched with mild interest as the woman entered the room, closing the door behind her. She sat up and tilted her head to the side when the doctor pulled the chair close.

"Are you a doctor?" she asked. The woman looked startled.

"Yes. I'm Doctor Hadley," Thirteen responded, taking a look at the chart at the foot of the bed before taking her seat next to the girl. "I want to ask you a few questions, is that alright?"

The girl nodded, sitting completely upright and looking at Thirteen intently. The door opened again, and the other three doctors trailed in, followed by Stacy. Thirteen turned to acknowledge them before looking back at the girl. Before she could say anything, though, Stacy spoke.

"Now be honest, Rayne. The doctors are going to make you better," she walked forward and sat on the edge of the bed. Rayne smiled at her mother and nodded as if to say 'I know'.

"That's a pretty name," Kutner said from the wall behind Thirteen. Rayne looked up at him and her smile got bigger.

"Thank you!"

"Now, Rayne," Thirteen started, drawing the three year old's attention back to her. "Has your head hurt any more since you've been here?"

"No," the girl said, shaking her head quickly. "It hurt a lot last night." Thirteen looked over her shoulder at Foreman, who was still standing in the doorway, leaning against the closed glass doors. He returned the glance, his eyes narrowing slightly. She returned her gaze to Rayne.

"Can you tell me more about what happened last night?" she asked tentatively.

"My table moved." Rayne stated, cocking her head. "You believe me, right?"

"What Doctor Hadley means is that she wants you to start at the beginning," Taub spoke up, ignoring the young child's question entirely. Rayne glanced up, confusion clear on her face.

Thirteen ignored Taub and kept her gaze focused on the girl.

"Rayne, can you tell me what happened before your table moved?" she asked softly, and she smiled encouragingly when Rayne looked back at her.

"I tried to put my glass of water on the table and it moved. Then the glass broke." Thirteen nodded as if that explained everything. This was obviously a shock to Rayne. "You do believe me!"

"I would like to hear more," she answered, leaning forward in her chair.

"Mommy doesn't believe me," the girl looked over at Stacy briefly before returning her gaze to Thirteen. "But it really happened!"

"Rayne," Stacy said warningly. "Tables can't move."

"Mine did! I told you!" Rayne said to her mother, then turned huge pleading eyes on Remy. "You believe me, right?"

"I think we're going to do some tests," she started, and Rayne looked very confused again. "It's just to make sure there's nothing wrong with you."

"Should I get an MRI?" Foreman asked, and Thirteen turned to him and nodded. Foreman left to schedule the test. Thirteen followed him out of the room, intending to report to House. Once both of them had left, Kutner looked at Stacy.

"Any family history of migraines? Hallucinations?" he asked.

"If you want my family's medical history, talk to your boss. He should still have it from when he treated Mark," Stacy returned, standing up.

"We need an up-to-date history, Mrs. Warner," Taub stated, causing Stacy to turn a hard look on him.

"Ms." she corrected.

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Hmmm...the plot is thickening. All you reviewers guessing at the identity of Rayne's father might just be on to something....But I'll never reveal the twist. Oh damn...I just revealed that there's a twist.....


	4. Chapter 3

GAH! Sorry this has taken so long...I've been completely swamped! Hope it meets expectations XP I should have more House updates soon.

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Chapter 3

"I don't want her anywhere near my office. You can do that, can't you?" House demanded, pushing the door to Cuddy's office open.

"What?" Cuddy asked, glancing up. "What do you want now?"

"You know exactly what I want." He quirked an eyebrow at her, smirking. "But that will have to wait." He limped closer to her desk, leaning over it when he came to a stop in front of it. "What I want right now, though, is for you to keep her away from my office."

Cuddy stared at him, her eyes hard. "You want me to keep Stacy away from your office?" she guessed.

"Yes," House hissed. "She's…interfering…with my work." He did not like the look Cuddy gave him.

"Interfering? As in, you can't keep your eyes, or thoughts, off of her?" she asked. He leveled a glare at her, light blue eyes narrowing.

"How could you think I'd still be hot for her?" he scoffed. "I don't need her. I've got you." He smirked, and it looked evil coupled with the glare still aimed at Cuddy. "By 'interfering', I mean she's helping with the differential."

She didn't say anything for a long moment.

"I think she's still hot for me," House continued when it became clear that Cuddy wasn't going to say anything. "Only thing I can think of for why she'd demand _I_ treat her kid. Why she thought I'd be somehow _okay_ with her helping with the differential." He scowled. "She also seems to think I need her help."

"You do. It's her kid."

"Funny. That's the same thing she said," House huffed. "I don't need her help. We both know what happened last time she thought I needed her help." He fell into one of the chairs in front of Cuddy's desk, eyes turned away angrily. His right hand clenched into a fist as it rested on his right thigh. "Just keep her away from my office."

"I'll…see what I can do," Cuddy replied finally, seeing the pain in his eyes. He really didn't want to be around Stacy, that much was clear. House turned his eyes back to her, and the intensity in the electric blue depths shocked her.

"Thank you," he muttered, forcing himself back to his feet. His hand reached into his blazer pocket and pulled out the small orange bottle. "I don't want to be in contact with her if I can avoid it." Popping the cap off, he shook out a pill. "It'll be easier on everyone that way." Dry swallowing the Vicodin, he turned and made his way out of Cuddy's office, leaving her staring after him.

Thirteen intercepted him outside his office.

"No headaches since she was admitted. She still seems to believe that her table moved away from her, though. Foreman's getting her in for an MRI." She held the door open as House walked into his office, following him over to his desk. "Her mother seems really--"

"Demanding?" House finished, cutting Thirteen off. "Unwilling to see the truth? Convinced her way is the best thing for everyone involved? She's always been like that." House's eyes narrowed as he looked away from Thirteen and stared out the window instead.

"I was going to say 'concerned', actually," Thirteen replied. "You two do seem to know each other though…"

House sighed. "We…It ended long ago." He frowned, keeping his eye fixed firmly on a spot just on the other side of the glass. He didn't even turn to look when his office door opened again.

"Uh, House?" With another sigh, the diagnostician turned to face the door, seeing Kutner standing there. "We have a conflict with the history."

"Oh?" House asked, not really all that interested.

"She won't give it to us. She said you already have it."

"I treated her husband three years ago. I'm not exactly in the habit of keeping patient files once I've solved the case." House turned to his computer, clicking the machine on. "There might still be a copy here, though." If he did still have a digital copy, it would work out for everyone. His team could add onto it, Stacy would leave him alone, and he could avoid all of them.

"She told me and Taub that she doesn't have a husband…" Kutner let himself trail off when his boss turned to face him.

"She…she's married to Mark Warner. They were here three years ago." A confused look passed over House's face.

"If she was married, she isn't anymore." Kutner shrugged. "She might be divorced."

"Or she could be lying," House argued. Divorce didn't seem likely. Mark hadn't seemed too interested in losing Stacy before. And Stacy had seemed very set in the idea of never telling Mark about her affair. House figured that Mark wouldn't leave her even if he _did_ know.

"She was very adamant about it." House ignored Kutner for a moment as he scanned through old case files on his computer. Finding the correct one, he scribbled something down on one of the random papers scattered across his desktop before printing the history. He handed the pages to Thirteen and sent both his Fellows away to get the history updated.

He had a phone call to make.


	5. Chapter 4

Finally....I've had a major case of writer's block lately, as I'm sure has been quite obvious in my lack of updates. I hope this chapter makes up for it...  


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Chapter 4

House was practically fuming as he left his office. He didn't say a word to anyone as he made his way to the elevator, punching the button for the third floor a little harder than he probably should have. His icy blue eyes were narrowed to slits when the doors opened again. And his glare was directed at the dark-haired woman about to step into the elevator.

He grabbed her wrist, dragging her off to the closest empty room.

"Why?" he asked, his glare hardening. At her confused look, he elaborated: "why did you leave him? I told you not to…"

"What I do is my own business, Greg. And I didn't leave him." She was silent for a moment before continuing. "He left me." Stacy tore her arm from his grip. It was House's turn to look confused, his glare diminishing marginally.

"So…this wasn't some ploy to change my mind? You're not trying to get back together with me?" he asked.

"I'm not going to try to change your mind. We've been there. You're too stubborn, and that's what caused our breakup."

"No, it wasn't. You going behind my back caused our breakup," he reminded her, shaking his head. They were getting off the subject. But he realized, he shouldn't be surprised. She was a lawyer, and they were good at that, after all. "I still want to know why."

"I didn't tell him about our affair, if that's what you're wondering," Stacy sighed. "At least not in words," she added in a mutter.

"What? What's that supposed to mean?" House asked. "Did you draw him a diagram? Write it in your diary for him to read?"

"Shut up!" Stacy shrieked. "It wasn't any of those things….He found out about our affair when I found out I was pregnant." she hissed at him, glaring. "And he knew it wasn't his."

House's mind went blank, his face paling. "Because you and Mark weren't having sex before I diagnosed him." Stacy nodded in confirmation, looking away. Her face was red in her anger. "Which means…" House trailed off, unwilling to put to words the horrific thought in his head.

"Which means," Stacy repeated, looking back at him, her brown eyes hard, "that Rayne is your daughter. Not Mark's." House stumbled backwards, dropping his cane and sinking into the nearest chair. His face paled even more.

"You're…you're sure she's mine?" Stacy nodded again, dropping her eyes to the floor. "So…you and Mark still weren't having sex after you took him home?"

"Oh, we were. Just…not very often," she whispered in reply.

"Then how can you be sure she's mine?" House demanded. Stacy looked up at him again and opened her mouth to say something. "Have you had a paternity test done?" he asked, interrupting her before she even had a chance to speak.

"No, I haven't." She narrowed her eyes at him. He tried to stand and she picked his cane up off the floor and held it out for him. He took it and forced himself to his feet.

"I'll order one." She opened her mouth again, but House raised a hand to cut her off. "Don't worry, our affair won't reach the ears of my team." Stacy nodded hesitantly at his reassurance. He nodded once and left, returning to his office.

Taub and Kutner were waiting for him when he returned. "Assumed father's history is useless," he told them.

"'Assumed father's'?" Taub asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. 'Assumed.' Just talked to Stacy…she's admitted to having an affair. Child might not be her ex-husband's."

"So…we need a paternity test. Do we have a sample?" Kutner asked.

"That's what I'm going to go get right now," House replied, grabbing his leather jacket off the coat rack. The thought that the little girl he was so willing to discharge without even treating her might be his own flesh and blood horrified him. He had never thought of himself as parental material. He'd never wanted his own children, and the very idea that he had a daughter he'd never known about was scary. He didn't know how to be a dad, and the title had suddenly been thrust onto him. Leaving his office again, he shook his head to clear those thoughts away.

He wouldn't know if he was really Rayne's father until after the results of the paternity test came back. And if he really was her father… could he be trusted to continue her treatment?

He made his way out of the hospital, straddling his motorcycle. He could do this. All he had to do was go home, just to give the impression that he was off getting a DNA sample from some nameless man that didn't exist. Pull some blood, get a cheek swab, or a strand of hair or something and bring it back to the lab with a false name on it. Have the test done, and wait for the results.

House spent the ride back to his apartment thinking up a false name to put on the sample. It took him the whole trip to decide on 'George Hansen', mostly because his mind kept distracting itself with thoughts of how his life would change if the child was, in fact, his. Entering the apartment, he collapsed on the couch, running his fingers through his hair, wondering how on earth it could be possible. He gave up trying to figure it out after a few moments, pulling himself forcibly out of his thoughts.

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He returned to the hospital in no better condition than when he left. Hanging his coat back up, he handed the tube containing the cheek swab to Thirteen. "Run this against the kid's DNA. I'm sure Taub and Kutner have already told you…" Thirteen nodded and turned to leave the office, nearly running into Foreman on the way out.

"You're back," Foreman stated, holding up the folder containing the MRI film. House held out his hand for it, and Foreman handed it over. "Looks completely normal. Nothing there that could be causing her migraines. Or her auditory and visual distortions. There's absolutely nothing physically wrong with her brain." House gave him a look and turned on the light box and stuck the film up and stared at it. It was exactly as Foreman had said.

"This is weird." House turned off the light box and moved to sit at his desk. "Sure there's nothing hiding anywhere that could be causing these problems?"

"MRI was clean. You saw it. Want me to run a contrast?"

"No…she said she hasn't had any migraines or distortion episodes all day, right? Let's see what happens at night before we do anything else."

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No idea when the next chapter will be up, but I'm working as hard and as fast as I can to keep these stories alive. Hopefully, this one, Unbreak My Heart, and my Vicodin series will all be updated before the new season starts in a little over a month....but I can't make any promises.


	6. Chapter 5

Yay, new update! This one's all about the test result...and all you who guessed in the reviews will enjoy this one...maybe.....lol  


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Chapter 5

The test had been ordered and now there was nothing for House to do except wait. What Foreman found odd about House's waiting was that it was done standing outside Rayne's room, watching the toddler laugh and talk with her mother.

"What's up with House?" Cameron asked, coming to stand next to Foreman at the nurses' station and watching the older doctor.

"No idea. He ordered a paternity test for the kid. Said the mom, who happens to be his ex girlfriend, admitted to cheating on her husband, who House treated three years ago…" Foreman shook his head, not sure he wanted to waste time trying to figure out why House was suddenly so interested in Stacy's daughter. "He hasn't left that spot since the sample was sent to the lab."

"That's really odd… considering he usually tries to avoid patients." Cameron sighed. "What's the kid got?" If it was interesting enough, it would explain House's unusual level of interest in the patient.

"According to House? 'Over active imagination and headaches'. I think there's something actually wrong with her."

"You get an MRI? Find out whether the headaches mean anything?"

"Clean. No lesions, no tumors, nothing even remotely suspicious." They were quiet for a few moments, watching as Thirteen walked up to stand at House's side and hand him a folded piece of paper. "Looks like the results are in," Foreman muttered. They watched House unfold the paper, then crush it in his hand and storm off, leaving Thirteen standing outside the patient room with a confused look on her face.

"Wonder where he's going?" Cameron asked, looking after him.

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Cuddy was with a patient when House found her in the clinic.

"Need to talk. Now," he demanded, scowling deeply as he led the to her office, yanking the door open and making sure she actually went in before following and closing the doors.

"What is it now?!" Cuddy asked, turning to face him and crossing her arms over her chest, staring at him.

"I…I can't work this case…" he muttered, tearing his eyes from her searching gaze. "I'm putting Foreman in charge. I'm taking myself off the case…"

"Not without a reason," Cuddy interrupted.

"Let's just leave at 'conflict of interest', shall we?" He knew she wouldn't, but it was always worth a shot.

"House…" Cuddy rolled her eyes. "You'll just have to get along with Stacy and live with it. I can't --"

"It's not Stacy I have a conflict with," he shouted, cutting her off. At her surprised look, he continued. "It's her kid…"

Cuddy sighed heavily and uncrossed her arms. "Did she insult you? Why would you possibly have a conflict with a three year old? Did we finally find a kid who hates you?"

"…" House stared at her for a moment before holding out the crumpled test results. She took it with a confused look and scanned the page.

"So? Who's… George Hansen…? And why does it upset you? House, what's going on?" Cuddy raised an eyebrow at him and sat down in her chair by the door.

House rolled his eyes. Had she suddenly become naïve to his methods? "It's a false name. Look at the initials. 'G. H.'…my initials. My blood sample. I couldn't let my team know about mine and Stacy's affair three years ago…" Cuddy stared at him for a moment, blinking, before looking back at the rumpled paper in her hands, scanning it again with this new information in mind. She paled and raised concerned and compassionate eyes to House when she re-read the actual result.

Positive.

"Oh, House…" Cuddy sighed, slightly frustrated. She honestly couldn't see why he was upset about it under the current circumstances. She stood up and held the paper out for him to take back. Which he didn't. "You don't know this kid. You weren't there when she was born, you didn't watch her grow up, teach her to walk or talk or drink out of a cup…. You're only her father in the sense that she has your DNA. There's no conflict."

"Lisa…" he whispered, taking a step toward her, ignoring the test result sheet. "Take me off the case." He gazed down into her eyes, desperate. "Please…"

"Greg, I can't." She sighed. She'd warned him about displaying the familiarity at work…but she supposed that she could make the exception, seeing that he was under no little duress. "You haven't put the patient in jeopardy, you haven't done anything risky without approval, you're following proper procedure for once…" She pushed the paper into his hands. "And don't try to do anything to force me to take you off."

Sighing, he nodded and pushed the paper into his pocket, never wanting to look at it again. He leaned in a little. "…Am…am I a bad person for wanting nothing to do with this kid?" he whispered.

"I don't know…" she whispered back. "If Stacy asks you to be there for them…"

"I can't… I don't…I don't love her anymore… Please don't ask me to choose between her and you…" His eyes pleaded with her. "Don't make me tell her she was right…" House leaned in closer, his lips barely an inch from Cuddy's.

The doors opened before Cuddy could answer, and she jumped away from him. Both turned their heads to see who had interrupted them.

"Are the results back?" Stacy asked, looking suspiciously between the two doctors.

"Yeah," House answered, giving Cuddy one last look of desperation before pushing his way past Stacy and out of the office without another word.

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R&R as usual....next chapter will be entirely about little Rayne.... but I'm not gonna say much more than that. ya'll will have to wait and see what happens XP


	7. Chapter 6

New chapter.... little bit of Daddy!House in this one, let me know if you like that side of him, and there's a poll up in my profile about this story, so go and vote!

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Chapter 6

Night had fallen at Princeton-Plainsboro, and House was reclining in one of the chairs in the sleep lab, staring at the monitors. Foreman was in the chair next to him, talking to Rayne through the microphone.

"Just tell us if anything happens, okay?" he asked. Rayne nodded, and Foreman sat back in his chair, turning to address his boss.

"What?" House asked, not even turning his head to look at Foreman, staring intently through the glass into the sleep lab room where Rayne was settling herself to sleep. They'd tried to recreate the general idea of her bedroom based on what Stacy had told them.

"The other three might not know what happened with Stacy, but I do. So do Chase and Cameron. We were there…" Now House turned his head, a lost and confused look in his eyes.

"I know… you had to have been complete idiots to not think there was something up when I didn't come back from walking her to her car…" House sighed and looked back at Rayne.

"I saw Thirteen give you the paternity test results…" Foreman edged.

"I know what you're asking, and…." House hesitated, still staring through the glass at the daughter he hadn't known he had. "…yes." He shot a glare at the neurologist before continuing. "If you tell Stacy that she was right, I'll have you doing my clinic work for the next three months." He looked back at the little girl. "Why do I feel like I need to go in there and read her a bedtime story?" he asked in a soft whisper.

"Maybe you should… if we could get close enough to what happens in her home, she might be more relaxed, which might make it easier to do the test…" Foreman wasn't actually expecting House to answer him or to do anything, but the older man got up out of his chair and left the observation room to walk into the test room.

"Rayne…?" he asked softly, slowly stepping closer to the bed. The girl looked up at him, so he felt that he could continue. "What does your mom do to help you go to sleep at night?" he asked, finally coming to stand at the foot of the bed.

"She tells me a story and gives me a glass of water," Rayne answered, still lying down. "But mommy isn't here…"

"Do…do you want me to try to tell you a story?" House asked, stepping around to sit on the bed next to her. Rayne nodded, and House took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He didn't know any children's stories, but he could remember part of a story he'd liked to hear from his own mother when he was much younger.

"A long time ago…" he started, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. He licked his lips and tried again. "There was a couple who were very poor and wanted a child. But they couldn't have one, no matter how much they wanted it…" He sighed. He had to be hopeless at this. But Rayne didn't seem to be complaining about his more-than-pathetic storytelling skills, so he continued. "They lived next to a large house with a beautiful garden. The woman would stare at this garden and ask her husband to go into the garden to pick some fruit. But the husband always refused because a wicked witch owned the house and garden…" He heard a soft click and assumed that Foreman had turned on the microphone.

"Why does the lady want fruit?" Rayne asked, her voice soft.

"Because she likes it," House answered, remembering asking his mother the same question when she would pause at that point. "But she kept staring at the garden, and asking him to get her some of the fruit, and he loved her very much and finally went into the garden to take some of the witches fruit to give to his wife. It was the juiciest fruit she'd ever eaten, and so the next night, she again asked her husband to go and get some of the fruit. He did, but the second he went into the garden and reached up to take an apple from the tree, he was stopped by a voice behind him…" He trailed off, stopping, because Rayne had a confused look on her face. "Something wrong?"

"I can't hear you…" she said. House narrowed his eyes.

"Do you want me to speak up?" he asked, and Rayne nodded, and he continued the story in a slightly higher volume. "The voice said 'who are you to come into my garden and steal my fruit?' The man turned and saw the evil witch standing behind him, and he was afraid."

"House…" Foreman's voice came over the microphone and House stopped again and turned to look at him.

"What is it, Foreman?"

"When she asked you to talk louder…I could still hear you just fine." House blinked, realizing that Foreman must have turned on the microphone to compare hearing in case the symptoms came back. "She's having an auditory distortion episode… We should check and see if there's visual problems right now as well…"

"Way ahead of you, Foreman…" House answered, raising his hand to gently push Rayne's hair from her face, feeling like it was a fatherly thing to do.

"Why do you walk with that?" Rayne asked suddenly, pointing at the cane. House blinked.

"Because…my leg doesn't work like yours does…" he answered after a moment. He held it up, testing to see if she'd reach out for it. "You wanna see it?" he asked, tilting the curve of it towards her. She nodded and backed up a bit. House narrowed his eyes slightly. "Did… Did it almost hit you?"

"Yeah…" she muttered before reaching out for it.

"Foreman…it's nowhere near close enough to have even touched her… We have visual distortion…"

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They'd managed to get Rayne to go to sleep, and they were back in the outer office with Taub, Kutner and Thirteen.

"The symptoms only manifest at night?" Taub asked with quite a bit of doubt. "That doesn't make sense."

"I didn't say they manifest at night, I said they get worse at night. There's a difference," House remarked, twirling his cane idly. "What causes migraines, audio visual distortion, and gets worse at night?"

"Nothing," Thirteen said. "Nothing fits. Maybe she's just a really young Munchausen…"

"She's too young to even know what that word means," Kutner rolled his eyes. "She gets plenty of attention from her mom, so we can probably safely say that's not what she's after. She's way too young for this to be drug-seeking behavior."

"There is one thing that fits, but the mom will never buy it." Foreman leaned against the wall by the kitchenette and folded his arms across his chest.

"Mom doesn't have to buy it. She's too busy trying to get her daughter's migraine to go away…start treatment for migraine prophylaxis…anticonvulsants, beta blockers, calcium channel blockers…antidepressants for good measure. We'll continue to monitor her overnight, discharge her in the morning." The team went off to do as House ordered, but Foreman stayed behind.

"House…you got attached to her, didn't you? Telling her a bedtime story put you in daddy-mode, which is kinda scary. I haven't told Stacy, but you probably should…" With that, Foreman pushed away from the wall and left the conference room, leaving House alone with his thoughts.


End file.
